Day Six ∞ Wednesday evening
SUPPER WITH THE McGAHNS. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but it was. The meal started in awkward silence with Mother sitting at one end, Danny at the other, and Gina and Mickmi facing each other. Outside dusk was falling, but it wasn't that noticeable from inside with a wide circle of the yard brightly illuminated by new lights.
Danny hardly noticed what he was eating: he was watching Mother, waiting for her to start her interrogation. Every now and again he'd look at Mickmi; she was quietly focused on her food but she ate very little. He wished he could touch her in encouragement but they were sitting too far apart for him to be able to do so without it being obvious. He exchanged glances with Gina, wishing there was something more they could do.
"So..."
—Here it comes.
"Micki, is it?"
Mickmi looked up at Mother. "Mickmi."
"Okay. Mickmi. So where are you from? Where's your family?"
"I know not. I am an orphan."
"Oh. I... I didn't realize..." Mother was a bit thrown by that unexpected answer, but she soon recovered. "You're not American."
"Nay. But I have lived here as long as I can remember."
Danny nodded. —Smart move, Mickmi. That's the truth.
"So where did you go to school?"
—You were homeschooled because the people who took you traveled a lot, he prompted.
"I was homeschooled because the people who took me traveled a lot."
"But if you're home-schooled, how did you get to meet Gina at college? And aren't you too young to have gone to college when she was there? How old are you?"
"Seventeen and a half years."
Danny exchanged glances with Gina, shaking his head. —She's seventeen and a half and she's supposed to have gone to college with you, Sis? That was a humongous gap. He thought quickly. They felt you needed to experience formal education so they sent you to college for a semester. But because you were homeschooled you're so advanced you skipped high school.
Mickmi took a deep breath and repeated Danny's words with a steady voice, meeting Mother's gaze. Then she turned back to face Gina, but she was staring vacantly at the table.
"I see." Danny could see Mother's brain at work. He hoped that she would take the lie at face value and not probe too deeply. "So what makes you think you should be staying here?"
His brows furrowed; he had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying something he'd regret.
Mickmi met Gina's gaze for a moment, then turned to Mother. "It was not my intention. I was invited to stay here."
—By Gina, he prompted.
"By your daughter."
—She saw your distress.
"She saw my situation."
"I see. And what is your situation, exactly?"
Mickmi rested her knife and fork on the half-empty plate, lifted her left hand to rub her brow, sneaking a slight turn of her head to meet Danny's gaze for the first time during dinner. He gave her a minuscule nod in encouragement. —You were abused so you ran away.
She looked back at Mother. "I ran away. I have no home."
"Why did you run away?"
"I was abused."
"That must have been difficult for you. Was that ever reported?"
"Nay."
"So you just ran away."
"Aye. I could not take it any longer."
Mother nodded. "I can understand that. You're old enough to take care of yourself. Were you staying on the streets when my daughter found you?"
"Nay."
"Where then?"
—I'm sorry, Mickmi. Can you think of something? Danny had run out of ideas. You've been traveling around the country? Staying at motels? Doesn't sound right. He watched Mickmi as she sat silent for a long while, staring at the table, her face still, her hands resting on either side of her plate. It was so uncharacteristic of her, that he tried to catch her gaze—but she refused to look up. He exchanged glances with Gina, then looked back at Mickmi.
"Are you in trouble?" Mother continued after a while. "Because with your nomadic background, it wouldn't surprise me if you've gotten yourself involved in some shady business that you're trying to get away from. You must tell us if you are in trouble because I don't want my family to get into trouble with the law—or with whomever you might be involved with that might come after you."
Mickmi remained silent—and still; Danny couldn't even tell if she was breathing. "Dammit, Mom, that's enough. You're upsetting her."
But Mother ignored him and pressed on, "Would you be so kind and answer my question? Are you involved in criminal activity?"
Danny glared at Mother, his fingers clenching under the table. "Mom." This was going too far. He took a deep breath, turning to Mickmi. "Mickmi. Hey," he said in a soft voice.
She wouldn't look up.
Mother persisted. "I need to know exactly who is staying under my—"
"No, you damn well don't!" Danny blurted. "And she doesn't owe you an explanation... You're taking this way to far."
"Danny! I won't sit here and let you talk to me that way, not under my own roof."
"Fine!" He threw down his napkin and turned to Mickmi, lowering his voice: "Try not to take it personally, Mickmi. Mom's just—"
"I am sorry, Daniel," she said quietly, her voice breaking. She shook her head without looking up. "I can not do this. I can not stay... Excuse me."
He was already on his feet to pull out her chair; she rose slowly, her back straight. She gave Gina a slight nod, then turned to him, raising her gaze to meet his. Her eyes were dark green and glistening with deep dejection that cut straight through his heart. "Mickmi," he said quietly and squeezed her hand, "please wait. I'm right behind you, okay? Don't disappear."
She gazed at him silently for a moment before heading for the back door.
Danny turned slowly back to Mother, shaking his head, his heart heavy and pounding. "Well – done – Mom," he said through clenched teeth, staring down at the table. "You just can't stop, can you? Un-freaking-believable!"
He looked up suddenly, straight at Mother. She was sitting erect with her palms flat on the table, her face reddening in displeasure. She opened her mouth but he wasn't about to let her interrupt him.
"You know what, Mom? I'm done with you! Who do you think you are? You're not perfect; you've got no freaking right to judge anyone!" He caught his breath, his heart throbbing in his ears. He'd never spoken to Mother like this before and he was just starting. "The only criminal in this goddamn house is you!"
"I agree...," Gina mumbled under her breath.
Mother rose indignantly, shaking her head, looking from one to the other. "I'm not finished yet, dear. That girl: I have my suspicions about her. She's involved with something, I'm sure of it! Next thing you know she'll get you—"
"What, Mom? What? ... Hurt? In trouble? Are you freaking kidding me?"
He'd had enough; he was shaking with anger. It had been a long time in coming—over seventeen years brewing since his father left—and he couldn't hold it back any longer. It had all come down to this.
"I guess that's why Dad left—'cause you just don't know when to stop!" He slammed his fist on the table with the last word, causing the cutlery to jump and rattle. The sound made him glance down at the half-empty glasses and plates before him—and a moment of déjà vu flashed in his mind.
A memory.
His father had stood right here in his last argument with Mother and, in a moment of fury, swept his arm across the table, sending it all clattering and crashing on the floor.
That would be so easy...
Chest heaving, Danny clenched his fist, resisting the urge to do the same thing. He could be better than that. Lifting his gaze, he glared at his mother's shocked expression and raised a finger at her.
"You... better come off your damn high horse, Mom, and apologize to Mickmi. Offer some common, southern hospitality. She's our friend and—Sis and I—we've invited her to stay here as long as she needs to. If you can't do that, don't expect me to stay here anymore. Don't expect anything from me... 'cause if I leave because of you, Mom—rest assured—I swear I'm not coming back! You can forget you ever had a son."
He shoved back his chair and stormed after Mickmi.
∞
Mother stared after Danny, her face a mixture of concern, disbelief, indignation and hurt. The tears were stinging her eyes but she held them back determinedly. She sighed and shook her head. "I don't understand—"
"You don't have to!"
Mother looked at Gina in surprise, she'd almost forgotten her daughter was there too.
"You really did cross the line, Mom," Gina continued, staring back at Mother with angry tears trickling down her cheeks. "This is the way you treat our friend? I'm ashamed to call you my mother! I do hope you'll be happy when you wake up and find out that you're all alone in this old house!" She rose abruptly and left the dining room.
∞
Danny stood on the back porch with heart pounding, napkin wrapped around his hand, looking out into and beyond the circle of light. He saw Mickmi's figure waiting near the round stone by the grave, the paleness of her dress reflecting in the dark.
"Mickmi," he called. That was when she started to walk away from him, into the woods beyond the yard. "Mickmi, wait!" Dammit, she's not stopping. And it would be completely dark soon.
He rushed back to the laundry room to retrieve a battery operated lantern and headed out after her. She kept walking between trees, over trunks and stones and ducking branches as if she could clearly see where she was going. It took him a while to catch up with her.
"Mickmi, wait! Stop!" He finally was able to grab onto her arm, stopping her. He put down the lantern and pulled her into his arms, enveloping her and she heaved a deep trembling sigh.
"She hurt you, I'm sorry; I must apologize for Mom, she doesn't really—"
"She means it, Daniel," she said into his shirt, her voice breaking. "I know."
"God, no, don't cry." He shifted closer to a tree trunk so he could lean against it, holding her tightly. He stroked her hair, her face, her shoulders in an attempt to calm her, wishing he had acted sooner. He wished he'd stopped Mother in her tracks long before she got there; the fact that she'd stooped that low had taken him off-guard.
"Mickmi. Please forgive me for allowing Mom to grill you like that. She really crossed the line this time. Man, I don't even know if I can forgive myself for allowing her to hurt you... I'm sorry, Mickmi. I'm really sorry; I blame myself... I don't know which is worse: her believing that you're a – a – some sort of criminal or her knowing that you're not from this Earth." He kissed the top of her head and then her forehead. "I gave her a piece of my mind; I really did. It hurt me that she hurt you. I've never been so furious before in my life."
She became still for a few seconds, then she pushed herself back so she could gaze at him for a while, her eyes glistening in the light from the lantern. "I am sorry," she said eventually.
He shook his head. "Why?"
"I cause conflict in your family."
He took both her hands in his, rubbing them soothingly. "It doesn't matter. I don't care. I don't care what Mom thinks. I care about you. My family... all of that will work itself out. You're not going to have to go through this again, I promise." He lifted a hand to stroke the shimmer from her cheeks.
"It matters to me, Daniel. I know not if I can go back there... I can not lie any longer; I can not live there – feeling... crushed inside."
He closed his eyes at that. "If you want to leave, Mickmi, just say the word. I'll go with you—I'll help you find a place to stay and keep you safe. I'll continue to help you regain your memory."
"I can not be the cause of you leaving your family." Fresh tears glinted and brimmed over. "Nay... I can not."
He couldn't bear to see her so distressed; it made his heart heavy and his chest constrict to the point that he could hardly breathe. He needed to cut through all of that negative emotion and the only way he knew how was to pull her close again and kiss her. Kiss her long and deep until there were no more tears left.
∞
Lora sat on the stool, staring at the mirror. She did not know the person looking back at her, but when she put her hand to her cheek, the person did exactly the same, but mirror-wise.
"That's you. You like?" Toni had put her artistic skills to work and painted Lora's face with makeup. She'd been conservative since Lora said she'd never worn makeup before.
Lora smiled at her new look. Her eyes were bigger than before with smokey eyeshadow, eyeliner heavier on top than below and a good dose of mascara. Her light brows were penciled darker into perfect symmetry. Her cheekbones had been sculpted and accentuated by blush a couple of shades darker than her skin tone. And her lips were brighter and fuller than she'd ever seen them before. Her dark ash-blonde hair had been left as is since Toni liked the look.
"I like."
"I'm sorry I don't have any clip-ons. If you had holes in your ears I'd lend you a pair of hoops to go with that."
"I could get holes in my ears."
"Cool. You could get that done tomorrow. And how about one of these?" Toni added, pulling down a strap to expose a rose tattoo on the back of her shoulder.
"I could get that too," Lora said. "In addition to this one." She pushed her fingers up from her forehead, lifting her hair aside to expose the thumbnail-sized tattoo just below the hairline.
Toni inspected it and nodded. "Nice. What does it mean?"
"Nothing important." Lora stood up and turned to the full-length mirror inside the closet door. Her pantsuit had been replaced by her brand-new straight-legged Jordache jeans pushed inside her boots, and a short-sleeved shirt with sleeves rolled up as much as possible, and the front partially buttoned and tied up, exposing her waist and creating a plunging neckline.
"Here," Toni said, threading a collection of bangles onto her arm.
Lora stretched out her hand, turning it over, observing the addition to her arm. Then she faced Toni. "Are you sure about all this?"
"Sure sure. Hot days, hot nights, catch a little breeze..." Toni picked up a black leather jacket and handed it to Lora. "If you're gonna be part of the crew, then you gonna have to wear this. Especially when we ride out. And when you get hot you can carry it over your shoulder, like this." She lifted her hand to her shoulder, with her fingers up like a hook. Then she became thoughtful. "I don't know how you managed to get Jagg so moody today; he's usually pretty cool. He needs to chill out when we get to the club. So I do hope you clear up whatever this thing is between you two."
When the girls stepped into the front room they were met by whistles from Pace and Sleek. TJ gave a thumbs up and Ramiro a simple nod. Lora felt slightly embarrassed at the attention. The feeling was completely alien to her, and she smiled a little, raising her eyes to the corner where Jagg was, curious to see his reaction. He sat leaning forward with elbow on knee, chin in hand, head at an angle looking at her with tight eyes. He made no move one way or the other, but she could tell he liked what he saw.
He got up and went to the front door and opened it. Everybody started piling out. Lora was last. Jagg stopped her as she was about to exit. "You got an I.D.?"
She looked at him questioningly.
He studied her. "I guess not. No matter. You're with me, so I'm your pass."
∞
Left alone, Mother had repositioned the chairs, cleared the table, put away the leftovers, and done the dishes. She'd turned off the lights to go to her room but couldn't bring herself to go up the stairs. Danny hadn't returned home yet; it had been over an hour since he'd stormed off and she was getting worried. So she returned to her seat at the dining table, light streaming in through the windows.
She sat like that with her chin resting on her clasped hands, staring into nothingness—waiting in silence. Another hour passed before movement disturbed the light outside the windows. Only then did she come to life, rising to her feet with a sigh of relief, anxiously looking toward the doorway to the hallway.
Danny came inside holding Mickmi's hand. They headed for the staircase, but he halted at the foot of it, stopping Mickmi from climbing the first step.
"Mickmi," he said quietly. He was aware that Mother was still in the dining room, but he didn't care. He studied Mickmi closely. "You okay?" He stroked her cheek and she nodded with a small smile. Then she pulled away and went upstairs.
He remained watching her till she reached the top, then stepped into the kitchen-dining doorway, arms akimbo. For a while mother and son stood silent, staring at each other.
Mother was the first to break the silence. "Danny my dear, I—"
"Don't say a word, Mom," Danny cut in darkly. "Don't say another word. You've already lost my respect. You're this close to losing me. So you get your head straightened out and apologize to Mickmi in the morning. Until then I have nothing else to say to you."
He turned his back on her and stormed up the staircase. He knew exactly what Mother was thinking right now and it only made him angrier. She'd be trying to figure out a way of separating him from Mickmi without alienating him.
Like that's ever gonna happen. You don't control my life, Mom.
He'd reached the top of the stairs when a sudden, strange feeling made him pause and hold his breath.
Did he hear something?
He cocked his head as he scanned the dimly lit landing. It sounded like the house was breathing... breathing a long breath of air... no, a word... It sounded like interfere...
He turned around in slow motion to look down at the hallway. A light spilling from the kitchen door flickered with irregular pulses.
—You... shall... not... interfere...
What? He took a few careful steps down, listening.
—She... is... no... threat, the whisper echoed in his mind.
He ran down the stairs, caught himself in the doorway and gasped, staring. The dining room was full of a swirling mist hovering over his mother, the ceiling light flickering wildly.
—You – shall – not – interfere.
Mother's eyes were droopy, and they closed, her head dipping as she keeled over and sank into her arms on the table.
—You shall – not – interfere.
"Leave her alone!" Danny blurted as he took two steps into the dining room, his heart pounding.
The mist of light contracted, pulled away from over the table and became slightly denser, swirling multicolored light dots and mist loosely forming the shape of what looked like a human figure.
He rushed to Mother's side and shook her shoulder several times, but she didn't stir. He patted her face, getting frantic.
"What did you do to my mother? She's not waking up!"
— ∞ —
©2016 by kemorgan65
A huge thanks Echo4Echo for helping me to rework 'the quarrel'!
*Credit: Image is a Photoshopped composite of Pixabay images.